


Four Times Grantaire Struggled With His Sexuality and One Time He Did Not

by edgy_fluffball



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 4 Times + 1, Bedsharing, Cuddles, Demisexual Grantaire, Demisexuality, Established Courferre, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Grantaire Struggles, Implied Non-Con, M/M, Oblivious Grantaire, Pining Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 15:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17727683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgy_fluffball/pseuds/edgy_fluffball
Summary: Grantaire knows deep down that no one can drag him down for who and what he is. People still try and his friends are left with the job of building him back up.All these accounts are based on real life conversation I had.





	Four Times Grantaire Struggled With His Sexuality and One Time He Did Not

**Author's Note:**

> I had a sweet request for bedsharing between Enjoltaire or Courferre...I turned it into something slightly personal with a hint of angst. Non-consensual actions are hinted at.

1

The door slammed shut, the glass panes in the kitchen cupboard rattled and the biscuit Courfeyrac had been about to shove in his mouth dropped back onto the plate as his head whipped around to find the source of the commotion. Grantaire kicked his shoes off, sending them flying against the wall, yanked the beanie off his head and threw it into the corner, followed by his scarf and his bag. He stormed into the kitchen, past the counter on which Courfeyrac and Combeferre were leaning, past Enjolras who was cooking dinner. He opened the fridge with enough force to tip a bottle of soy sauce out of the door, it rolled towards Enjolras who stopped chopping vegetables for a moment to watch as Grantaire grabbed a chocolate bar and an open bottle of wine. A dark cloud seemed to hang above his head that cast a shadow on his face and made him seem mad with anger. Courfeyrac opened his mouth to say something but Combeferre’s hand was on his arm before he could make a sound, softly shaking his head. He looked concerned, turning his head again to watch Grantaire chug half of what was left in the bottle before pulling a face and leaving the kitchen, surrounded by the same livid energy his entrance had conveyed. A moment later, they heard glass chink in the living room.

‘That was the whisky,’ Courfeyrac said under his breath.

‘What in the name of sweet sanity was that?’ Combeferre set down his mug, coffee still steaming, blinking at the doorway through which Grantaire had taken his leave.

‘No idea but it was dramatic,’ Courfeyrac shrugged, turning towards Enjolras, ‘have you got something to do with this? You didn’t send him political memes again, did you?’

‘Of course not, I learned my lesson after the last time,’ Enjolras set the knife down on the cutting board carefully, ‘I thought – doesn’t matter,’

‘No please, enlighten us with your knowledge about our dearest flatmate,’ Combeferre pushed his glasses back up his nose, ‘something seems wrong and you should tell us, if you know anything!’

‘I promise you, it’s nothing, I just thought Grantaire had a date tonight, that’s all,’ Enjolras crossed his arms over his chest, ‘and don’t ask why I know that.’

‘Why do you know that?’ Courfeyrac grinned. According to the grim look on Enjolras’ face, knowing about Grantaire’s evening plans put him in a bad mood.

‘I know because it was supposed to be with a fellow student of mine, I set them up.’

‘Wait, you set Grantaire up with one of the guys in your Historical Constitutions class?’ Combeferre seemed intrigued, leaning in a little until his chin rested on Courfeyrac’s shoulder, ‘Now, that is interesting. Weren’t you supposed to be the person who fancies our sweet Grantaire like mad?’

‘Shut up, you cannot give credence to what drunk Enjolras tells you, I told you,’ Enjolras could not prevent turning beet red.

‘Back to the important stuff, stop bickering!’ Courfeyrac lightly smacked Enjolras’ arm, ‘why is Grantaire back from his date at half past eight and why is he upset, that’s what I am interested in right now!’

He got out of Combeferre’s embrace, looking from one to the other. When neither of them moved, he sighed and rolled his eyes at them.

‘If you want something done…,’ he mumbled, ‘I’m checking on him.’

‘He might want to be left alone,’ Enjolras pointed out quietly, ‘you might upset him more.’

‘Nonsense! A friend doesn’t allow him to linger in his own room, thinking about who knows what. He had a date tonight and it didn’t go well, judging by the way he came back here. Don’t be silly, Enjolras, nothing will upset him more, as long as you don’t start something. Come on, Ferre, have got more chocolate?’

‘We have the cookies Cosette made, they are in the drawer with the tea towels.’

‘So that is where you keep the sweets nowadays,’ Courfeyrac grumbled and opened the drawer to retrieve the biscuit tin, ‘yes, yes I know, you’re just looking out for me.’

‘And myself,’ Combeferre mumbled, ‘because who of us is the one who has to carry your deadweight every time you decide to get drunk, huh?’

‘Point taken and ignored,’ Courfeyrac opened the biscuit tin, ‘we had Jammy Dodgers and you didn’t let me have them?’

‘Because they are Enjolras’, see, that’s the point of hiding the tin,’ Combeferre took the tin from him, ‘do you really want to go see Grantaire?’

Courfeyrac brushed past him and down the hallway. Their bedrooms were next to each other, Enjolras’ first, closest to the kitchen, since he was in need of coffee first thing in the morning, then Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s which was the biggest one, initially with two single beds until they pushed them together and eventually bought a double bed once they could no longer hide their relationship. Grantaire’s room was the furthest down the hallway with posters and postcards stuck on the door and an eternally loose doorhandle.

He knocked cautiously before opening the door, far enough for him to squeeze through. Combeferre and Enjolras stayed in the hallway, holding their breath and listening as he made his way through the room.

‘Grantaire, are you okay? I brought you biscuits, if you want some,’ Courfeyrac’s voice wafted into the hallway, ‘oh poor thing, do you need something?’

Enjolras pushed the door further open and entered the room. The curtains were drawn shut, only a small gap allowed the light of a streetlamp outside to fall onto the floor and the foot of the bed, messy and cramped as it was. Grantaire lay under a pile of blankets and pillows, knees drawn into his chest by the looks of it.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked and stepped carefully around the desk, ‘Did the date not go well?’

‘It was marvellous,’ Grantaire’s hoarse voice came from underneath the pile, ‘can’t you see, I am being cuddled as we speak.’

Courfeyrac set the biscuit tin down on the bedside table and rolled his eyes, ‘Speak to us, Grantaire. We are your friends, we actually want to help you! Please tell us what happened?’

‘The usual. At some point he asked what I was looking for and I told him, I told him what I always say: the closeness and intimacy of a relationship but without the whole sexual part.’

‘Didn’t he take it well?’ Courfeyrac inquired, inching closer to the bed.

‘He did take it well, but then he said I was just looking for a platonic best friend. Is it really so hard to understand that a relationship without sex is still a relationship?’ Grantaire’s voice sounded small and wavered. Enjolras noticed that Combeferre had entered the room as well, ‘it’s not like I hadn’t heard it all before. Every single one of his utterances, “you just haven’t found the right person yet”, “so you’re waiting until marriage?”, even “all you need is a proper shag, you’ll see, you enjoy it”. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore when people say these things.’

‘Hey, the relationship you are looking for is exactly the right one for you. You know what’s good for you and if they don’t see and understand that, they are not the right one. Even more, if they say stuff like that, they are creeps and don’t deserve you,’ Courfeyrac sat down on the edge of Grantaire’s bed, one hand searching for his body above the covers, ‘I still believe you’ll find them.’

Grantaire’s response was a broken sob. It made Enjolras flinch, he took a step towards the bed, sitting down on Grantaire’s other side.

‘I’m sorry your evening wasn’t what you expected. Don’t give up though, there is someone out there who understands how you feel and that person will fulfil your every wish,’ he felt for Grantaire’s hand under the blanket and squeezed it, ‘you are special.’

Grantaire tugged on his hand and Enjolras gave in, stretching out next to him, putting one arm around his friend who snuggled into the contact. Enjolras felt him breathe calmer, even though a few small sobs still shook him as he rubbed small circles into Grantaire’s shoulder.

‘Excuse me, cuddling without me?’ Courfeyrac scrambled to join them, pressing a kiss to Grantaire’s head, ‘My cuddles are the best, after all.’

‘No objection here,’ Combeferre took off his glasses, ‘scoot over, I want to join, too.’

Grantaire omitted a shaky breath and clung tighter to Enjolras, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. The bed creaked under the weight of four people and Enjolras was sure that he could feel Combeferre’s knee dig into his spine but Grantaire seemed to calm down after a little while, held by three people until all of them drifted into a gentle sleep.

2

Combeferre relished Thursday afternoons when he was the first one to come back from university and had the opportunity to make himself a cup of tea, sit in the living room and read undisturbed until Grantaire and Courfeyrac came home. He had made up his own routine. First he put the kettle on. Whilst the water boiled he brought his bag into the bedroom and chose a book to read, usually the one left on the bedside table, before returning to the living room to brew his tea, get a few biscuits out of the new hiding place and settle on the sofa.

His Thursday afternoons were perfect.

He already planned which tea to drink, which book to give preference to and which of Courfeyrac’s soft blankets to borrow, when he opened the front door. Immediately, he sensed that something was off. There was a pair of shoes too much on the floor, somebody had left a glass next to the sink and the leftovers of their dinner sat on the stove, ready to be reheated.

‘Courf? Enj? R?’ he called into the flat, ‘Is everything okay?’

A quiet noise made him check the living room first but nothing seemed in any way different. As he listened into the hallway, he heard the distinctive sound of Courfeyrac’s stuffed cow’s bell collar.

‘Courf? Why on Earth are you back already?’ he opened the door, leaning into their bedroom.

Courfeyrac slept on the right side of their bed, surrounded by his cuddly toys and with scented candles on the nightstand. He also had enough pillows propped up against the headboard that he fell asleep sitting up, rather than lying down.

The person lying in their bed lay on the left side and did not use any of the pillows. They also did not sprawl out over the whole width of the mattress but were curled up in a ball. Combeferre sighed, a feeling of dread creeping up on him. Only one out of all his friends slept in the fetal position, knees tucked under his chin, head buried beneath a pillow, rather than on top of it. He took a few careful steps towards Grantaire, mindful of the clutter Courfeyrac left on the floor every morning when he decided on an outfit.

‘Hey, Grantaire, are you awake?’

The tight ball on his side of the back sniffled softly, ‘Ferre?’

‘Yes, are you alright?’

He shook his head vehemently, ‘I am broken, Ferre. A broken toy because I cannot even be played with.’

Combeferre got into the bed with him, ‘What do you mean, Grantaire, you are perfectly alright, did you have an accident again?’

‘No,’ Grantaire buried his head in the pillow, ‘I had a lunch date on campus. We were supposed to sit in the canteen and get to know each other. He turned up but then he started explaining what he expects from a relationship and I didn’t say the d-word because I didn’t want to explain the whole thing again. He just told me that he wasn’t interested if I wasn’t going to put out. I had not even mentioned the whole issue, just hesitating to agree to sex on the third date was enough for him to stand up and leave. He got so angry, Ferre, because I had wasted his time.’

Combeferre hugged him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Grantaire shook and he struggled to determine whether it was the stress or the sobs.

‘You are not broken, Grantaire, you will find someone who does not expect you to sleep with them without getting to know them first. Do you hear me? Getting to know you is never a waste of time!’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really.’

‘But who should be up to it? My wiring is awry, Ferre, I am too ace to be normal and too normal to be ace. Do you remember the guy I found, specifically asexual? He stormed off because he could not handle the prospect of me developing something that he could not reciprocate, and everybody else leaves me because I will probably not develop something that they possibly already have,’ Grantaire’s hair was stuck to his tear-wet cheeks when he turned around to face Combeferre, ‘I fall between the cracks.’

Something deeply sad made his eyes glisten and Combeferre felt the urge to pet his head. Instead, and due to a lack of words, he offered a weak smile, ‘What if it happens at some point and you realise you experience sexual attraction for someone you already know? Wouldn’t that be easier?’

‘Of course not, Ferre, I would be nothing but a predator! How can you say something like that, I can’t just go up to…to Enjolras, for example and tell him that I, after years of friendship, want more! That is absolutely bonkers!’

Combeferre decided not to point out that he had picked the one person who would not mind his advances, Grantaire did not need that kind of comment in his situation. He opted for a tight hug, reassuring phrases that he knew Grantaire did not believe and the resolution to make him a cup of tea later on, after Courf was back to look after Grantaire.

3

Courfeyrac hated coming home to an empty flat. Sometimes, when Enjolras was working late, Combeferre had an errand to run and Grantaire could not be bothered to come home, hoofing it around the bars and pubs in town instead, he would go for a walk in the park to kill the time until someone was there.

Sometimes, when he opened the door, he realised that his calculations were wrong. Sometimes, he spent hours in town, only to come home to discover that they had been there all along. Sometimes, Combeferre waited for him with dinner and a drink, Enjolras watched TV and Grantaire wrote a new column for their campus newspaper.

Sometimes, he was not the last to come home.

Combeferre was cooking, glasses fogged, a glass of wine in his hand. He looked up as Courfeyrac let the door shut, a worried shadow ghosting over his face. He thought nothing of it until Enjolras seemingly jumped out of his chair to see who had arrived.

‘Oh it’s you,’ he said, disappointment in his voice, ‘sorry.’

‘What’s going on?’ Courfeyrac grabbed his waterbottle from the fridge, one infused with mint leaves and lemon, ‘You seem on edge.’

‘Grantaire had a date last night,’ Combeferre explained, his forehead wrinkled with caution, ‘he didn’t come home.’

Courfeyrac took in the dark circles under Enjolras’ eyes and the way his knuckles were white, hands clasped around his journal and a half empty coffee mug. It was obvious to him that his friend had not slept at all and was running on an overdose of caffeine.

‘He didn’t come home at all? I thought he was hungover or something.’

‘No, he didn’t come in, Enjolras checked,’ Combeferre stirred his pasta sauce and took the pot off the stove, ‘we are worried, of course.’

‘Of course,’ Courfeyrac shook his head, ‘you don’t think he might be with someone special?’

‘This is Grantaire we are talking about, he would have told us if his feelings towards one of his friends changed. No, I don’t think he’s alright,’ Enjolras nodded in time with his own words.

‘Have you tried calling him?’

The moment silence that followed his question made Courfeyrac want to throw something at the wall, ‘All those brains and what do you use it for? Nothing!’

He got his phone and typed in Grantaire’s name, dialling and putting it on speaker, ‘I can’t believe you guys didn’t try calling him.’

The call was picked up and Grantaire’s voice sounded back at them, ‘Courf?’

‘You’re on speaker, lovely, Enj and Ferre were a little worried you might have landed in a ditch somewhere.’

‘They are closer than they think,’ he sounded hoarse and worn out, Enjolras grabbed the phone from Courfeyrac to ask where he was when Grantaire continued, ‘no one of you had a shower today, you must be filthy. I would be disappointed in you but I can’t bring up the energy to act like it.’

‘He’s in the bathroom,’ Enjolras threw the phone at Courfeyrac, closely missing the fridge, ‘you and your obsession of having the shower curtain drawn, Ferre!’

He stormed down the hallway, opened the bathroom door and shoved the shower curtain – black with glittering stars, please and thank you, Courf – to the side. Courfeyrac and Combeferre, having followed him, watched as he pulled Grantaire out of the bathtub.

Their friend still held his phone in his hand but he managed to wrap his arms around Enjolras’ neck nevertheless. Courfeyrac noticed the bruise on his cheekbone, a bandage around his wrist and something that looked like a hand print on his neck, dark and threatening.

‘I was stupid, Enjolras,’ Grantaire whispered, ‘I went and did something I didn’t want to do. I just thought…maybe it’s gone and I haven’t noticed.’

‘Enjolras,’ Combeferre held the door open for him, ‘get him into bed, he smells like a distillery.’

Courfeyrac gathered the empty bottles from the bottom of the bathtub, ‘I don’t even know what to think, is it weird that he was in here this morning when we got ready to go out? Why didn’t he say if he wasn’t alright, Ferre, do you think he went home with someone? What if someone took advantage of him, that bruise looks nasty, do you think he got ra –‘

‘I’m stopping you there,’ Combeferre put his hands on his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his lips, ‘don’t get into that space. We are going to find out what we can do to make Grantaire better and then, after he’s safe and warm and we have and something to eat, I will take care of you, too.’

Courfeyrac nestled into his arms for a moment, embracing the warmth and comfort his touch provided, ‘Shall we have a look? They are not arguing, are they?’

‘Doesn’t sound like it,’ Combeferre lifted him up a little so that Courfeyrac could step onto his feet and walked them down the hallway, stopping in front of Grantaire’s room.

The door was a smidge open and they could see Grantaire already snuggled up in his bed, Enjolras sitting next to him with his knees tucked under his chin. He was humming _Dream On_ and cradled Grantaire’s head in his hands whilst he gave what sounded like a very disconnected report of the things that had happened.

‘I didn’t go with him, not after he pushed me against the wall and accused me of lying to him. Why did he call it lying? I never said I was demisexual but even if I had, he wouldn’t have known what that means. I also didn’t led him to believe we would have sex, I never promised him anything. Why did he accuse me of lying? I really thought I could get to know him enough to make that connection. Instead, I get bruises and damaged self-esteem. I didn’t lie to him, Enjolras, I would never lie to them. I promise, I would never lie, I just don’t know when to tell them. Should it be the first thing they need to know about me, do I come out to them after the third date when others expect sex? What if I enter a relationship and they find out and break up with me? Do you have the answers?’

Enjolras stopped humming and stroked his hair, ‘I don’t have the answers, Grantaire, I only know that the people who treat you like that don’t deserve you. Don’t worry too much, you will find somebody who is okay with who you are and what you identify as. Someone who doesn’t put that pressure on you.’

‘But I feel like I’m imploding, Enjolras,’ Grantaire whispered, ‘it hurts so much. I cannot exist without the sense of belonging, of knowing where I can feel like I am appreciated.’

‘Grantaire,’ Enjolras pushed his hair back to look at him, ‘you will always have us! We are here for you if you need someone to talk to, cuddle or hold you. You know that, right?’

‘We should leave them to it,’ Combeferre murmured, ‘seems like Enjolras has this under control. Hungry?’

‘Always,’ Courfeyrac kissed him and got off his feet, ‘promise you’ll cuddle me later?’

‘Always,’ Combeferre smirked after a last glance back into Grantaire’s room where Enjolras had moved to lay down next to Grantaire, holding him whilst reassuring that he would not die alone.

He knew Grantaire dreaded the day when they would graduate and move on, potentially lose sight of each other and move into different spaces. Their friend could prove to be needy when it came to being touched and held, rivalling Courfeyrac.

‘Are you coming?’ his boyfriend yelled from the kitchen, demanding his attention.

‘Of course, slavedriver!’

4

Enjolras had spent months on a way to represent every single one of _Les Amis_ on their website. For most, the flags were easy enough to understand, lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans – the basics were covered. It got harder the more specific the conditions got. Representing genderfluidity without an explaining text had been hard enough when Jehan approached him about it. He had found a way, of course he had, that was his job. The thing that had never even crossed his mind was finding a way to represent Grantaire’s demisexuality. He had done his research and found out about the asexual spectrum but he still did not know how to explain it so that every person stumbling across their blog understood just what made Grantaire different. Combeferre had shaken his head when he had told him, mumbling something about Enjolras being the last person to write about Grantaire being special.

Whilst doing his research he had come across experiences shared on several forums, experiences that scared him, especially when he thought about what Grantaire went through every time he chatted, got to know people and finally dared to go on a date with them. The horror stories he found made him worried about his friend’s wellbeing and he tried to find something positive about the situation to lift himself up.

‘Hey, what are you doing?’ Grantaire came into the living room, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. He wore one of his soft, baggy jumpers and smiled softly, ‘You have been sitting hunched over your laptop for hours.’

He passed him the tea and sat down next to him, ‘Demisexuality? Are you questioning your sexual identity? You know I could potentially answer your questions, right?’

‘Maybe. But I wanted different perspectives on the matter. It seemed to me that I should know exactly what you are talking about, in all detail.’

‘That is kind of you,’ Grantaire smiled softly, ‘don’t get to upset, some of the experiences that get shared online are a bit depressing.’

‘You know them?’

‘Of course, I read up on it when I first tried to find out more about this thing that seemed so much like what I might be experiencing,’ he rested a hand on Enjolras’ back, ‘It turns sour eventually, once you start thinking about what applies and how it could always get worse.’

‘It can always get worse,’ Enjolras allowed for Grantaire’s head to sink against his shoulder, ‘as long as you have friends that want to help you when you feel down, though, you can always count on us to try and build you up.’

‘Thank you,’ Grantaire put an arm around his friend, ‘you wouldn’t be up for a cuddle, would you?’

‘Sure, can I bring the laptop?’

‘Yes, if you insist…’

Enjolras followed him and nodded towards his own bedroom, ‘Wifi signal’s better there, I want to get behind this research.’

Grantaire lay down, squeezing between the wall and Enjolras on his single bed. His friend typed away next to him, patting his hair every now and then.

‘Would you say you have ever experienced sexual attraction?’ Enjolras’ question stirred him from something almost resembling sleep, ‘Sorry, that’s a bit intrusive.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Grantaire yawned, ‘the problem is – how do you recognise something that you do not know? Where is the line between an aesthetically pleasing face, a warm personality and something that goes beyond that? I could have a relationship without wanting to sleep with my partner, maybe the attraction would develop over time, but it seems like most guys can’t deal with that.’

‘You truly need somebody special,’ Enjolras sighed and shut his laptop, ‘someone who cherishes you, loves you, gives you the space and freedom you need.’

‘Probably,’ Grantaire turned into the warmth radiating from his body, ‘finding that person is hard though. They would have to be someone who does not mind having to go through some time without sex. It’s selfish to demand that of someone, and I don’t blame anyone for not wanting to enter a relationship like that.’

‘Don’t you dare call yourself selfish for something you have no control over. I told you, the person that will end up having the pleasure of being with you will be absolutely perfect and understanding of your situation.’

‘Thank you. You are being too kind,’ Grantaire leaned into his touch and felt a hand come up to his head immediately.

Fingers wove into his hair and caressed him carefully. A content hum escaped him as he allowed himself to sink into the illusion of closeness.

+1

Grantaire’s keys jingled as he opened the door. He had spent the day in different lecture halls and in the company of a few fellow students. It had been one of the more productive days, he had finished one paper and started another, fine-tuning the question and setting out on the quest for literature fit to help him prove his point.

‘I’m home,’ he yelled into the flat as he toed of his heavy boots in the doorway, he would have to clean the mud splashes off them again, the rain had turned a few paths and streets into rather sticky business.

‘Living room,’ Enjolras answered.

Grantaire set his bag down and hung up his jacket before making his way through the flat. Enjolras stood in front of the living room window, a cup in his hand. He seemed to stare into thin air. It made him smile seeing him like that. Grantaire crossed the room and snaked his arms around Enjolras’ waist. He pressed his face to his face, breathing in the familiar scent of home.

‘I had a long day and it’s raining outside. I swear, it’s bloody freezing,’ he shivered at the thought, ‘what do you say?’

‘Hot chocolate and occupying the sofa until Courf and Ferre come home?’

‘I’m all for it,’ Enjolras turned in his embrace, ‘welcome back home.’

Grantaire grinned softly and pecked his lips, ‘I think we still have the popcorn left over from last week’s movie marathon.’

They parted, Enjolras setting up in the living room, Grantaire preparing in the kitchen. He smiled and set a pot of milk on the stove, whistling under his breath. Good seven months had passed since his last breakdown over his own identity. The passing time had seen Enjolras’ interest in it all peak. More than that, he had offered him his adoration and love. Money had changed hands after Courfeyrac and Combeferre found out.

Grantaire could not have been bothered less by it, he was happy enough with Enjolras finding it in himself to challenge the uncertainty that had possessed him. He had asked Grantaire to allow him to try and cater to his needs. Neither of them spoke about what might or might not be amiss, Enjolras never complained, and they shared the intimacy of their relationship, trusting each other limitless, without anything Grantaire felt uncomfortable about. They were happy like that.

‘Lost in thoughts?’ Enjolras came into the kitchen to kiss him, something Grantaire enjoyed a great deal, ‘I’m all done in the living room.’

‘Almost done here, too,’ he stirred cocoa powder into the hot milk, ‘do you want to get the mugs ready? We can get it all ready in two minutes.’

‘Lovely,’ Enjolras smiled and pressed another kiss to his cheeks. Exposure therapy, Courfeyrac called it and even though that was not true, Grantaire loved that his boyfriend was comfortable enough with their relationship to know their boundaries and remain within them.

Once the hot chocolate was ready, they retired to the living room and cuddled into the corner, dragging a blanket over themselves. Enjolras tugged them in and put his arms around Grantaire, nuzzling at his shoulder.

‘You comfortable?’

‘Very much,’ he answered and leaned into his touch, ‘thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘Do you really not know?’ Grantaire kissed Enjolras cautiously, taking his hand into his, ‘Seven months without nervous breakdowns about my lack of a sexuality and all because of you. You are the best thing that could have happened to me. I love you.’

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr. Find me and drop me a request. [https://edgy-fluffball.tumblr.com/](url)


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